


Hivehand

by benignmilitancy



Category: Half-Life
Genre: Drabble, Emetophobia, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-17 07:27:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17555966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/benignmilitancy/pseuds/benignmilitancy
Summary: "I'm kinda tryin' not to lose the rest of my lunch here, ma'am."





	Hivehand

"So what's this new gun that's got everybody worked up…?" Curiosity kills the Barney. He pulls the canvas off a weapon and recoils at the sight of a muscled claw replete with valves. Its flesh, slick crimson and bruise-purple, oozes thick mucus onto the old newspaper on which it rests. "Oh, Jesus pogo stickin' _Christ!_ What the hell is _that?_ "

"It's a Hivehand."

"Hive _what?"_ he asks, bewildered, then rubs the back of his head to avoid touching it. "Whoa, all right, okay. You wanna parade around the base waving an alien dildo, I ain't gonna stop you."

Mossman pinches the bridge of her nose and exhales a long-suffering sigh. "May we please call it by its proper name? This will go by a lot more quickly and pleasantly if we do." She crosses the room, withdrawing a pair of latex gloves from a dispenser in the wall.

Barney all but blanches. Sometimes he really wonders about these guys.

"Call it whatever the heck you want, but I am _not_ shoving my hand up that thing's cooch."

"Suit yourself." Without so much as a blink, Mossman fits the Hivehand to her latexed wrist with a squelching noise that's nearly enough to make him dry-heave. "Now it is important to recall," she states, "that the Hivehand perpetually fertilizes its colony of hornets, which, of course, means it can produce a near-endless supply, thereby superseding the need for manual ammunition replacement."

This all sounds well and dandy enough. It may even prove a tactical advantage against the Combine, but looking at that _thing_ squirming on her wrist, what comes out of his genius mouth is: "So it's a _pregnant_ alien dildo?"

"Yes and no. More like a collection of reproductive parts which acts in a manner similar to a hive. Look: embryonic sacs in an amniotic fluid."

"I'm kinda tryin' not to lose the rest of my lunch here, ma'am."

"Wait until after the demonstration." She aims, then scrutinizes its writhing mass more closely. "Strange… Someone's removed the firing mechanism."

"Well, glory hallelujah!"

"Seems the hornets are all dead as well… _Alyx?_ Did you tamper with this?"

"Aw, now it's starting to smell."

The lines etched around Mossman's mouth deepen. "If you're going to vomit, Calhoun, I suggest you point it elsewhere."

"Try and stop me." Not since the cat has he jostled so many elevator buttons.


End file.
